Blood Traitors and Time Turners
by UnDeadGoat
Summary: This is a different take on the origins of Sirius Black, but not really an AU, since it would fit with all the canon so far. Or at least, it's supposed to. Updated! PG-13 for mild profanity. Please R & R! COMPLETED.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Los Angeles International Airport (LAX), either. But I'd think that's pretty obvious, being as the owner of Los Angeles International Airport probably doesn't spend their time writing Harry Potter fanfics. But I digress.

July 31, 1997

Los Angeles International Airport

The blonde girl – well, really more of a young woman -- stepped off her flight from London and gazed at her surroundings with the wonder of one who has never been in an airport before. She hurried through customs as fast as she could, then went up to the counter to change her money.

            The man behind the counter was surprised when he saw large gold coins falling through the fingers of the young woman who was next in line as she searched her wallet for the appropriate money. The girl handed him several hundred pounds to him, silently praying that no one had seen her galleons. She said nothing when he looked at her with some astonishment. It was rare that a young woman carried so much money in her wallet. She said nothing when she took over a thousand dollars from the man's hand, though she noticed his surprise. He sent her on her way with, "have a nice day, miss," and tipped his hat.  She murmured something that might have been thank you, or possibly goodbye, and hurried down the concourse towards the doors, not bothering to stop at the baggage carousel.

            She slowed her pace considerably as she approached the exit, and fingered one of the two large gold hourglasses she wore around her neck. No, she admonished herself, there's no turning back now. She marched up to the door, and pushed her way through to a life unknown. 


	2. Introduction

Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure everything in the introduction is mine, though I think I may have subconsciously plagiarized the phrase "though it grew in the telling," so no one flame me for copying, please? And I don't own the LAPD, but that's rather obvious, as I think they're public property. So maybe I do own them, as they're supported by my tax dollars? Wait, I don't pay taxes……

If you look in the files of the LAPD, you can find two files of cases that were never officially closed, though no one has paid any attention to either of them for many years. Both date from the earthquake of December 2003. One is a missing person, one Lana Bramham. The other is an unidentified body – an unidentified woman found with Ms. Bramham's wallet in her pocket. What follows is the story of these women, though it grew in the telling, and is now the story of many things besides.

P.S. Yes, I wrote this before December 2003, so if there is an earthquake in LA then, well, I don't really care. OK, I will, because people will die. Please review?


	3. 1 Three Doors

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

December 16, 2003

An apartment in Los Angeles, California

"Hey, Lana? It's me, Ethan. I'm back from Iowa. Well, almost back. I can see the lights of the greater Los Angeles area up ahead. My mom loved the kids.  She says Henry looks just like me. You know – grandparents. Anyways, could you take the twins until New Years? I have to fly to London to see my dad's family, and what with one thing and another, I won't be back in the States for two weeks. Can I drop the boys off tomorrow at one? Call my cell if that's a problem."

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP* "Monday, December fifteenth, ten o clock p.m.," intoned the tinny voice from the answering machine.

Lana sighed. She had listened to the message a hundred times, at least. She knew it was stupid to want to get back with her Ethan, her ex and the father of her twin sons. After all, she was the one who had been such a bitch to him. They'd broken up months before Henry and Ian were born. Neither of them had wanted to give up custody when the kids were born, though. But it was hard raising infants this way, not knowing what their bedtime routine was with their dad, or exactly when she'd get to see them. . . . 

The doorbell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. Lana walked over to the door of her apartment, and turned the knob without bothering to look out the peephole.

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December 17, 1958

An old grey house in London, England

Annabella, the maid Mrs. Black hired for the holidays, when there was too much work for the house-elf, dusted the drearily decorated front hall and hummed "God Bless Ye Merrye Hippogriffs" to herself. Annabella was an awful hummer, but she didn't know that. She always hummed when she was dusting. That was probably the reason it was so hard for her to keep most jobs. Annabella definitely did NOT know that.

"Annabella! Is the hall clean enough for company?" Mrs. Black asked imperiously as she flounced down the stairs. It was really more of a command than a question. "So hard to find pure-blood help these days," she said to herself.

"Almost clean, Mistress Black!" Annabella called, as she pointed her wand at the ceiling and whispered, "scourigify!" She put her wand back in her pocket, dusted off the shriveled house-elf heads mounted on the wall, and bustled towards the door, eager to catch a glimpse of a post-owl, or an early guest.

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September 1, 1992

King's Cross Station, London, England

The small, black-haired girl pushed her cart across Platform 9, heading towards the barrier. Her parents were somewhere behind her; she'd managed to lose them in the muggle crowd.

She wanted to get on the train, away from her parents, as fast as she could. She wanted to get away – away to freedom at school, freedom to be who she was, not the proper, aristocratic, pure-blood muggle hater her parents wanted her to be. She marched up to the barrier, and pushed her way through to a life unknown.

A/N Yes, all these stories turn out to be connected, and yes, Sirius Black does show up in a few chapters. Don't worry.


	4. 2 Through the Doors

Hi and thanks to all my reviewers! I'm back, and I have more written, but it's not quite ready to post………….

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Lana gasped as she opened the door. "Ethan! You're early!"

Ethan grinned. "I know. My flight's earlier than I thought it was. Mind if I come in?"

"No. Would you like a Coke or something? I think I have some in the fridge. Or maybe iced tea . . ." Lana's voice trailed off as she looked up into Ethan's slightly amused eyes. "What?" she demanded. Oh, god, that blue still made her heart beat faster.

"It's Ian and Henry's naptime," Ethan said, gesturing to the sleeping babies in the stroller he was pushing. "Or had you forgotten?"

Oh my gosh, I completely did." Lana began to blush. "Would you carry them in here, to their cribs?"

"I could," said Ethan, grinning. "I could also use some help."

Lana took her sleeping son Ian from his father, and followed him down the hall, towards the twins' bedroom.

********************************************************************************************

What Annabella saw as she looked out the door of number 12, Grimmauld Place, was not a relative, and it was definitely not an owl.

She gasped as she saw the baby – black-haired, and now that he was awake, she could see he was black-eyed, as well – lying on the front step.

He was lying in a strange cradle. Perhaps it was of Muggle make? But muggles couldn't penetrate the doorstep. . . . So was this a baby wizard?

She picked up the grey plastic and blue plush car seat. Perhaps the mistress would know what to do with it – and the baby.

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December 18, 1994

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The girl sighed as she waited for the horseless carriages to arrive. She didn't want to go home. She wanted to stay at school for the holiday. But she didn't have a date to the Yule Ball, and her parents would beat her if she stayed away at the holiday just to get away from them.

She'd wanted to go to the Yule Ball so badly, but, being in third year, she couldn't go without a date. She'd even asked Harry Potter. She'd been so nervous her hair had gone all curly. That was one of the problems with being a metamorphmagus – sometimes it was next to impossible to control your appearance when you were nervous.

Maybe it was better that he'd turned her down, though. She could imagine what her mother would say if she found out. "In Hufflepuff house! Dating Harry Potter! He's not a pure-blood! You're the greatest shame to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black since your Uncle Sirius!"

And then her father would beat her. She sighed as she watched the horseless carriages pull up. She dreaded the Christmas holidays.

Taskemus – Don't worry, I will.

Sunkyssd – Don't worry, I won't. And I know I have more readers who haven't reviewed…. *clears throat*


	5. 3 A Secret

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, except Ethan and Lana, but they're sort of based on real people, so I guess they own themselves. Oh, and I own Annabella.

A quarter of an hour later, Ethan and Lana were sitting on the couch, making small talk, each with half an ear on the baby monitor.

Lana sipped her Coke. "What did you say in that message about your mom saying the kids look like their parents?"

"She said," Ethan replied, "that Henry looks exactly like me."

Lana inclined her head and peered at Ethan intently. "Yes, I suppose he does. Same electric blue eyes, same light brown hair –"

"Actually," Ethan laughingly interrupted, "I think she was talking about when I was a tiny little baby."

"Oh, well," Lana said, a little uncomfortably, "I'm sure you had blue eyes and brown hair then, too. . . ." She felt herself blush as she trailed off.

Ethan wasn't listening, however. He was thinking. "If Henry looks like me, who dopes Ian look like? I mean, no one in my family has black hair or black eyes, so it must come from your side?"

Lana nodded. "Well, yes, my natural hair color is black."

Ethan looked at her long platinum blonde tresses with interest. "Wow. You must have an amazing stylist. I've _never_ seen you with dark roots!"

Lana didn't realize she'd already said too much. Shaking her head, she replied, "I don't go to a stylist."

"So do you dye it yourself, or is it a wig?"

Lana shook her head again. Don't say it, Lana. Think of your secret! "Actually, I'm a metamo—" Lana stopped abruptly. She finally realized she'd said too much.

"What?"

"I use . . . uh . . . Metabolize. It helps . . . the roots."

Ethan was pretty sure that she hadn't meant to say Metabolize at first, but he let it go, steering the conversation to a mutual acquaintance of theirs. 

Lana, grateful, eagerly responded, and soon neither of them was thinking about Lana's hair anymore. 

********************************************************************************************

"Annabella!" Mrs. Black called, "this room still needs tidying, and the elf certainly can't do it! She's cooking!"

"Coming, Mistress," Annabella called as she walked towards the dining room, and the Mistress's voice.

"Hurry up, you lazy wench!" called the imperious voice once amore, "honestly! With what I pay that girl . . ."

Annabella thought she wasn't paid nearly enough; however, she knew enough to keep her mouth shut. She hastened to the dining room just as Mrs. Black was opening her mouth to call her again. The look of impatience on Mrs. Black's face quickly changed to surprise – and then to horror. She didn't even close her mouth before giving Annabella a rather fierce tongue-lashing. "What," she spat, "were you thinking, bringing that . . . that . . . that THING into this house! That's muggle make, I'll have you know, and I'll not have it contaminating my house!"

"But, mistress," Annabella timidly replied, "it was on the front doorstep. And there's a baby inside. If he were a muggle . . ."

She lets the end of her statement hang.

"A babe," said Mrs. Black, her face impossible to read. "Bring him here."

Annabella handed the car seat to her willingly. "Hmmmm . . . I think I will keep him. Marie so needs a younger brother. What think you I should call him?"

"I don't know, Mistress," Annabella murmured politely, as she rummaged around in her pockets for her wand.

"Sirius," murmured Mrs. Black. "That's a grand-sounding name."

Annabella, magically scouring the ceiling, was no longer paying attention.

"Sirius Black . . ."

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December 26, 1995

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

Harry absently fingered the Black family tapestry. His middle finger was too large to fit through the hole that had once been Sirius, he noticed disinterestedly. His fingers brushed a clump of dirt, which fell off the tapestry. Harry leaned forward with interest.

There was another family underneath! Here was Marie Black, married to Nicholas Bramham, and a line down to their daughter, one Lana Bramham. "1981 . . . She's about Ginny's age!" Harry murmured.

"What's this about me?" Ginny demanded, walking towards Harry – and the tapestry – from the stairs.

"Oh, nothing," Harry began, but as he wilted under the glare Ginny shot at him, he began again. "Do you know this girl? Is she at Hogwarts?" Harry gestured to Lana's name.

"Lana Bramham . . ." Ginny read. "She's in my year. Hufflepuff. She was that first girl who asked you to the Yule Ball, remember?"

"Oh." Harry did remember.

Taskemus – Did the completely amazing plot come through even more on this one?

Sunkyssed – Sorry about the chapters. They do get longer, and the last one will be REALLY long, I promise!


	6. 4 Christmas Again

Lana gasped as the floor shook. "Ethan – it's an earthquake!"

"Oh, shit, we do NOT want to be in this apartment.  If that was just the first wave, I don't even want to THINK about what's coming next."

"Quick!" Lana ordered. "Get to the boys' bedroom, now!"

"The boys' room?"

"YES! And put them in their car seats, along with their blankies!"

Ethan, slightly bemused, went to do as Lana asked.  Meanwhile, Lana threw open a cupboard, popped a secret panel in the false back open, and pulled out three things.

She sprinted down the hall, clutching two large gold hourglasses and an applewood wand.

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December 17, 1961

Number 12, Grimmauld Place

Annabella was once again bustling about the front hall, humming Christmas songs off-key. Since that fateful day exactly three years ago, she had been hired full-time to take care of young Master Sirius. She still helped the house-elf, Noddy, out from time to time, but as Noddy's son Kreacher got older, that was becoming less and less a part of her duties. However, the elves still needed help, especially around the holidays.

Annabella opened the door to look for post, and felt the chill air of winter on her face. However, that was not what caught her attention. There was another baby on the step, in the same kind of strange cradle Master Sirius had arrived in.

However, this baby, with his bright blue eyes and light brown hair, was very different from his predecessor. The infant yawned and closed his tiny eyes. Annabella sighed. She supposed she'd have to take him in to Mrs. Black.

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September 1, 1996

Platform 9 ¾, King's Cross Station, London

Lana pushed her way through the barrier between platform ten and platform nine. She noticed with some surprise that there was hardly anyone else there. She was early!

She looked around to see if anyone she knew was there. No . . . oh, wait! There was that red-haired Gryffindor girl. What was her name? Jenny? Ginny! Her name was Ginny Weasly!

"Hello."

"Oh, hi, Lana. Harry this is Lana. You were asking about her, remember?"

"Hi, Lana," Harry said cheerfully as he shook Lana's hand familiarly.

Lana did not see her mother slip through the barrier. Marie Bramham frowned at the company her daughter was keeping. That girl was becoming more of a blood traitor every day!

XxDragon Princess NikkixX – Lana doesn't have a new little bro. Is it confusing? As soon as I have this whole thing posted I am going to revise revise revise! What'd I misspell? My spell check liked most of the words that aren't HP exclusive.

Taskemus – I think the rest of my readers what to know how come you know what's going to happen before it does!


	7. 5 The Boys, They Lived

The last chappie: the longest, too.

June 31, 1997

The Hogwarts Express

Lana was laughing and talking with her friends, Luna, Ginny, and Hermione. She was too busy chatting to pay much attention to anything else that was going on, only looking up briefly when Harry, Ron, and Neville's game of exploding snap  became unnecessarily rowdy. She was happy for the first time in a long while. This year, she'd finally made friends – real friends. She lay back in her seat and smiled contentedly.

Just then, she happened to glance out the window. "Oh, look, we're back at the station."  She barely managed to keep the emotion out of her voice. Hermione peered over the top of her book at Lana.

"Yes, we are. By the way, what classes are you taking next year?"

The girls were still deep in conversation about classes, teachers, and careers when they stepped off the train. So deep, in fact, that Lana did not notice her mother until it was too late.

"Hello, Lana, Mrs. Bramham said, teeth gritted. "How . . . nice to see you've made a new friend this year."

"Bye, Hermione," Lana called over her shoulder as she walked away.

"You fool!" hissed Mrs. Bramham. "That girl's a mudblood."

"Why is it any of my business who my friends' parents are?" Lana hotly retorted. "She's my friend."

"Not any more, you filthy little blood traitor. Give me your wand!"

"NO!" Lana cried. She ran towards the barrier, tears flowing down her cheeks, her hair slowly turning blonde. She burst through into the muggle world, not caring who saw her, only wanting to get away.

She could run anywhere she wanted, to the states, maybe.  She could stay a blonde, live as a muggle – anything to never face her mother's wrath again.

********************************************************************************************

"Quick, we've no time – get the boys in their car seats!"

Ethan, dazed, did as he was told. Lana, agitated, nervous, waited impatiently. She was ready to dart forward to help, but could not, as her hands were rather full.

As soon as Ethan had Henry in his car seat, Lana sprang into action. She pointed her wand at one of the time-turners. "Portus."

After she had placed the now blue-glowing chain around her infant son and his car seat, she tapped the hourglass, setting it spinning backwards, and kissed the sleeping infant's forward. "Goodbye." Her teary whisper was barely audible as the floor shook once more, causing several pictures to fall off of the walls.

Ethan steadied himself, then watched bemusedly as Lana repeated the same process a little more hurriedly on Ian's car seat.

"What," Ethan asked, "was that all about? And what are –" He stopped abruptly as his sons vanished, one, then the other. "WHERE DID THEY GO?!?"

"Hush," Lana whispered in his ear. "They're safe – much safer than we'll be."

"But . . . why?"

"It's a long story."

"I love long stories."

"All right, then. Don't say I didn't warn you."

"I won't."

"Well," Lana sighed, "let me see. I guess it all started when that seer prophesied to Uncle Regulus –"

"Wait – a SEER?"

"The story'll go faster if you just let me tell it," she said reprovingly. "I'll explain, I promise. You see, I'm a witch –" She held her hand up. "Do NOT interrupt me." 

Ethan sank meekly back into his chair.

"Anyways," Lana continued, "the seer told my Uncle Regulus, 'thy niece shall become thy mother.'"

Ethan shivered, for her voice carried something wholly alien to him – the harsh timbre held by even a repeated prophesy. 

"Well, Uncle Regulus told Uncle Sirius, who told my mother, who told me. I was very confused, as I was the only niece he had, or ever will have. I was convinced that the seer had gone mad, and didn't think about it until the boys were born. You see, Henry looks an awful lot like my Uncle Regulus, and Ian looks like Sirius. That reminded me of something – both my uncles were adopted. And, they were both exactly the same age our boys are now at the time that they were adopted. I knew I'd have to send them soon. I'm just glad I had a reason. Don't know if I could've done it without one. I just . . ."

Lana began to cry, harder and harder, until sobs wracked her body. Somehow – neither of them could manage to remember after – Ethan ended up holding her. "There, there. It'll be all right."

Lana, looking up at him, hiccupped. "I missed you, Ethan."

"I missed you, too."  
Inexplicably, their faces came closer and closer until their lips met. And oh, what a kiss, filled with nine months' worth of loneliness and longing. When at last the kiss was over, Lana was smiling, though her cheeks still shone with tears.

"What is your hair doing?"

Lana glanced at a lock of her now black hair. "Oh, drat, I've lost control."

"Is this something else to do with being a witch?"

"Yes. Would you like to see my birth appearance?"

Before Ethan had a chance to answer, Lana's eyes shifted from blue to black, her skin tone changed subtly, the shape of her face shifted, and her once perfectly arching blonde eyebrows became straight black darts. Ethan was shaken, for though he knew this was the woman he loved, he felt as if he no longer knew her.

"It's all right, Ethan. It's me. I'm a metamophmagus. I really doubt that there's a hair color called Metabolize."

Seeing the shocked look still etched on Ethan's face, Lana smiled, then pulled him down for another kiss.

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A breeze rustled along Grimmauld Place, which lay disheveled and dirty under the inky sky, a place where no one would expect astonishing things to happen, or would ever care if they did. Ian Woods shifted under his blanket without waking up. One small hand curled around the hourglass that lay beside him, and he slept on, not knowing he would be awoken in a few hours' time by Annabella's gasp of surprise as she opened the front door to check for the post, or that he would not see his twin brother, Henry, for three years. . . . He couldn't know that his parents would die when the ceiling collapsed on their head, just as his mother had been saying, in a hushed voice: "Ian and Henry -- the boys, they lived!"

Since I'm posting the epilogue today, too, this is the last time I'll respond to reviews. Thanx to all my regular readers. I'll miss you! And still review, I know I'll rewrite it next time my muse of editing comes back from vacation.

Taskemus – The totally amazing plot came through, didn't it?

Sunkyssed – Glad you're back!

Everyone else – Come on, review already!


	8. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I think I own everything in this chappie, BUT I do NOT own Harry Potter. My spell check thinks chappie should be crappie. Like the fish. OK, I'll stop.

A rescue worker shrunk back at the sight of the two crushed bodies. He swallowed once or twice, then leaned forward for a better look. Upon close inspection, he found one of the bodies to be that of Ethan Woods, the lawyer with his picture in all those ads on the buses. The other was a black-haired woman he did not recognize, though he had only recently moved out of this now-ruined building himself.

Noticing a wallet sticking out of her pocket, he pulled it out. However, the driver's license inside was that of one Lana Bramham, a blonde, blue-eyed woman who looked vaguely familiar. Perhaps _she'd_ lived in the building when he had? He sighed, then radioed a nearby police officer to help deal with the discrepancy.

I'm going to miss this story. I've become rather attached to it. If anyone still has no idea how it all fits together, let me know and I'll post a more chronological explanation.


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